Facebook brings a lot of people closer, like the hot women you’ve gone to the trouble of developing friendships with in real life and your brother, who’s gone to the trouble of paying his electric bill and turning on his computer.
Hot women on the Internet — those who don’t take credit cards for their friendship — can be pretty guarded. Luckily, your brother shares your last name, so instead of your hot friends seeing his friend request and thinking “Eek, who’s this perv?” they probably think something like, “Oh, how adorable. Joe Blow has a little brother, Bo Blow.” As unfair as it seems that your brother logged in to Facebook and sat there in his underwear helping himself to a salad bar of your female friends, you seem to have misunderstood something about the nature of Facebook conversations. “Facebook” is not the name of a romantic restaurant where you’ve booked a table for two. You’re having these flirtatious exchanges at a “table” for, oh, 547 of a woman’s closest friends — along with any “friends” she might’ve made through those friends. This might explain why they call it “social networking” and not “social isolation.”
No, your brother shouldn’t turn some woman’s Facebook page into the digital version of the write-on/wipe-off board your mom used to have by the kitchen phone. Because he got to this woman through you, this makes you look bad by association. So, you aren’t wrong to want him to change his message-leaving behavior, and you can call dibs if there’s one particular woman you’re putting the moves on. But telling someone what to do, even when a demand is phrased as a request (to remove the comment, in this case), generally doesn’t inspire him to say, “Right, I was a jerk. I’ll change, pronto!” It makes him angry, hurt, and defensive. A more effective approach is telling him you feel bad about something he’s doing, evoking his sympathy. That’s probably your best bet for getting him to back off a bit from your Facebook harem, considering it’s a little late to put your privacy settings on lockdown and way late to take the age-old approach to brotherly conflict resolution: “Maaaaa! Bo’s stealing all my hotties — just like he stole my firetruck 45 years ago!”
(c)2013, Amy Alkon, all rights reserved. Got a problem? Write Amy Alkon, 171 Pier Ave, #280, Santa Monica, CA 90405, or e-mail AdviceAmy@aol.com (advicegoddess.com). Weekly radio show: blogtalkradio.com/amyalkon